


Unbroken, Untainted, Unloved

by Calon



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, au - musketeers special unit, but here i am, its been a long time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10974531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calon/pseuds/Calon
Summary: This was meant to be her new beginning...oh how wrong she was.





	1. C. d'Artagnan

**Author's Note:**

> So hey! (this is a very short chapter indeed, please do not be dismayed, another much longer chapter will be up tomorrow!)  
> Long time no see guys <3 hope you are all well and that you'll welcome me back to the community with open arms!  
> I'm actually chilling in Paris (of course) atm, and deeply channelling my inner Athos (I've legit been wandering along these mystical streets with my hat covering my moody face and dipping between shade to hide from the sun!) I came up with this a while back, but recent family problems as well as my own mental and physical health issues got in the way of me getting round to posting it. So I am very sorry for disappearing for so long! I've got quite a few chapters prepped so I'll keep you posted once every two days!  
> Thank you very much and I sincerely hope you enjoy this AU!  
> Please like and comment - your support is amazing!  
> Calon  
> xxx  
> p.s yes, my other works are being finished at the moment, those posts will be out before too long!

_~If you aren't broken or tainted, scared or hurt, desperate or shaken, then you haven't really grasped the concept of love.~ A quote given to me by my Mum who, when she's not spewing out about how much she loves Tom Jones, only speaks in great wisdom and knowledge. ~_

 

***

Treville, as ever, looked suicidal.

 

But then, of course he did. It took more than a tough cookie to control a bunch of reckless men deemed to good for the army. With their ego's inflated to impossible lengths and common sense almost _non-_ existent.

 

The man had every right to look suicidal.

This eyes drawn and framed by dark swollen bags, his hair grey, and as Aramis loved to point out at extremely inappropriate occasions, bald in some areas.

 

Which, as Athos gazed at his Captain from across his pristine metal desk, could now clearly see.

 

"We have a new recruit joining the male's training squad hid afternoon." He explained, his voice as weary as he appeared as he rubbed his tired eyes.

 

Athos frowned a little at that. Normally he'd be briefed in upcoming recruits months before they actually arrived, in order for their records to be processed and analysed. It was odd for this arduous process to not be followed.

 

As if sensing Athos' confusion, Treville sighed before continuing. "The recruit has recently become an orphan, ex-services, and rather forcibly pushed up to the elite male squadron by Cornet."

 

Athos nodded, still a little unconvinced, yet he trusted Cornet's judgement and was willing to see how this would play out.

 

"I trust you'll be a suitable bodyguard." Treville muttered dryly, and Athos' head snapped up from where he'd been watching Treville withdraw the recruits file notes.

 

"Sir?" He questioned, feeling Aramis and Porthos stir, for the first time during this brief session, by his side.

 

Shaking his head Treville offered a weak smile. "Never mind." He dismissed, handing Athos the recruits case file, his Lieutenant's eyes settling on the name written on the front of the file in bold letters.

 

**_"_ ** **_C. d'Artagnan."_ **

 

**_***_ **


	2. Her New Beginning Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! The second chapter! I hope you enjoy!  
> All my love,  
> Calon  
> xxx

***

Celeste d'Artagnan stood stock still. Her breathing even, her heart rate regular and her mind clear.

 

This was it.

 

Her new beginning.

 

Her fresh start after everything.

 

Straightening her t-shirt, and gazing at herself in the darkened window that was station to the left of the waiting room, she sighed.

 

For a second she didn't recognize herself.

 

Her square jaw, which suited her features naturally, seemed brutally sharp, her cheekbones hollow and face gaunt. Her dark brown hair tied in a knot that settled between her shoulder blades. She looked presentable...good even. But that didn't take away from how run down she looked.

 

When the door to Captain Armand Treville's door opened, Celeste stood up, her nerves making themselves noticed for the first time since she'd arrived. She hadn't seen Monsieur Treville since she was eight years old. No doubt they had both changed since then.

 

The man who greeted her had defiantly changed. He looked older and limped now. Three men followed after dressed in grey slacks.

 

Celeste had expected him to shake her hand before ordering her to do...well something. But instead, the man marched over to her and enveloped her in a lung crushing hug.

 

"Bloody hell, Armand." She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You look awful!"

 

Treville laughed, and looked somewhat teary eyed to see her again. "You too."

 

Scooping up her old duffle bag she nodded towards the other men who seemed somewhat stunned.

 

"Cornet said you'd completed the first month so you'll be stationed with the junior recruits. Athos here will show you to your quarters." Treville explained, signalling towards the stoic man.

 

Celeste nodded tiredly and allowed the man to lead her to the dormitory. She had been granted her own room away from the other men.

 

It was small, the walls and floor synthetically white and cold, a small single bed that had been stripped, with pale blue pillowcases and sheets laid on top, a wooden small nightstand and wardrobe, a mirror and a large window overlooking the training room.

 

"You'll be dressed and ready for training at five." The man named Athos stated, still studying her curiously. "You may wash from 10 until quarter past at night and 3:35 until 4 in the morning. Understood?"

 

Celeste nodded, scanning the room.

 

"We have hand to hand combat this afternoon, you are not expected to attend but the uniform will be brought to your room anyway." Athos added, watching as the girl dumped her stuff on her bed and wandered towards the window.

 

"There is a strict, no tolerance for any... improvised clothing; you wear uniform, any jewellery is not to be worn, that includes your ear piercings and uh...any others... Oh, and please, _please,_ do not steal other people's clothing as they shower..." Athos huffed out exasperatedly and Celeste grinned.

 

Athos' lips quirked slightly and hummed as Thierry knocked on the door carrying d'Artagnan's uniform.

 

Alike her first uniform in the female squadron, it consisted of three main forms. Their training outfit, mission outfit and regular slacks.

 

Thierry's head peeped around the door, his eyes widening before scuttling off again.

 

Athos frowned. "If there are any issues with any other recruits please come and address either myself, Aramis, Porthos or Captain Treville."

 

Once again, Celeste nodded. "Thank you, Athos." She said quietly, noticing how he looked around the empty room. "I haven't any possessions." She explained. "My home was burnt down."

 

Athos' tongue went numb at that. He had no idea what to say.

 

Instead he cleared his throat. "If you require anything, my rooms, Porthos' rooms and Aramis' rooms are located at the end of the corridor." He hovered awkwardly for a few moments before Celeste snapped out of her trance like state and spun around to face him.

 

"Yes." She replied hurriedly. "Of course. Thank you Athos."

 

With a soft bow of the head Athos decided to take his leave.

 

"Welcome to the musketeers, d'Artagnan." He added with a slight smile.

 

***

 

Celeste entered the training room with her eyes glued to the floor.

 

She could feel the whole room watching her and it made her skin heat up.

 

She made her way over to the furthest ring where Athos and a man named Porthos were stationed. Athos bowed his head at her as she approached and gathered the men's attention.

 

"This Afternoon, you will be participating in hand to hand combat. I expect no cheating or foul play."

He explained in the whole condescending rich boy voice.

 

The large man grinned and let out a deep chuckle which vibrated through the metallic gym floor. "What 'Thos means is don' kill each other."

 

The group of men relaxed at that and let out breathy laughs. 

 

Athos' lips quirked a little before returning to their stated sour expression. "Right, first up is Depaul and Fournier, followed by Girard and Bonnet and then d'Artagnan and Bonacieux."

 

Celeste gazed awkwardly at the men before her in an attempt to locate her opponent. It wasn't hard to workout who he was as he gaped at her with the usual "I can't fight a girl" face that made Celeste want to scream at him. Bonacieux was a tall and muscular man with a fiery look about him; deep blue eyes, dark auburn hair and a face littered with freckles.

 

Celeste watched in controlled disdain as Bonacieux turned to Athos and Porthos. "I can't fight her." He exclaimed as the others stared over in Celeste's direction.

 

"Why ever not?" Athos drawled casually.

 

"She's...uh...a girl." Bonacieux mumbled as if it wasn't obvious.

 

Celeste sighed and rolled her eyes. "No shit." She mumbled under her breath.

 

Athos aimed a sideways glance in her direction, having caught her words, and for a split second Celeste was convinced she was about to get yelled at, her eyes widening in a flutter of anxiety. But, surprisingly, the stoic man simply quirked his lips and returned his focus to the men before him.

 

"Quite." He dismissed as he led the first pair to the ring and Porthos fixed the man with a dark glare.

 

Celeste smiled a little to herself at that and moved to watch the first fight.

 

Before long it was her stationed in the ring, her knuckles wrapped and Bonacieux standing across from her.

 

_The first minute was the most important,_ her mind supplied, _find the weaknesses and take the blows,_ _elude your opponent._

 

Bonacieux punched first, a weak, timid attack which Celeste allowed to slip past her defence. She dodged the next one and relinquished in the knowledge that his left hand was weaker and his knees weren't locked. Nimbly she kicked her legs against his aiming for a less strength involved attack. Bonacieux toppled over and his cheeks erupted in an unflattering red colour.

 

The next punch was his, and them the next. 

 

Celeste was tiring quickly. 

 

_Play defense,_ her mind supplied again, wait for him to tire, _make mistakes._

 

Focusing only on her blocks the second part of the fight began to show Bonacieux's loss of concentration as he grew frustrated with her lack of attacks. She took it as a cue to kick between his legs and kneeing him in the nose as he dropped to his knees.

 

With a hollow groan Bonacieux flopped onto his side.

 

Celeste stepped back as Athos called the end of the fight and offered him her hand.

 

Bonacieux smiled up at her and accepted it with a grin. "Bloody hell." He wheezed out around a laugh. "You told me."

 

Celeste smiled at him.

 

"Uh, I'm Jaques, by the way. Bonacieux's a little military." He offered as they walked back towards the group, desperately try it to hide his limp as his balls ached painfully.

 

"Celeste, but everyone calls me d'Artagnan." d'Artagnan smiled back, having the courtesy to wince sympathetically at him. "Sorry, about the-" She apologized gesturing towards his crotch area.

 

Jacques shrugged with a shy smile. "It's fine." He replied awkwardly, his cheeks reddening again as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

Celeste nodded shyly and stood beside him as Athos dismissed them from training.

 

***

 

Alike any dreaded school canteen, the Garrison cantine consisted of rows upon rows of hard metallic tables and chairs, thin plastic trays and delicate polystyrene cups. The only difference being that the food was, in fact, actually rather good.

 

Moving her tray along the train like system which trailed by the various hot buffets assembled by a mean looking bunch of chefs, Celeste patiently waited to be served and poignantly ignored the various looks hurled her way.

 

After gathering a good portion of a salad like dish, Porthos called her over to where he was sitting with Athos and Aramis.

 

Seeing as Bonacieux was nowhere in sight she smiled and took a seat next to Athos.

 

Celeste quickly learnt the dynamics of the threesome and began to enjoy their company. She learnt that Porthos was an absolute softie on the inside, who's laughter made those clunky metallic tables in the cantine shake and who carried this whole "cheeky" vibe about him that put everyone at ease.

 

Aramis, of course, was a typical flirt, who Celeste quickly realised was harmless and really quite charming in reality. He was pretty funny and seemed to work effortlessly alongside Porthos in providing a good conversation, even if the facts were a little exaggerated.

 

Athos, however, the more withdrawn and restrained of the three. His dry and sarcastic remarks bringing a smile to Celeste's face.

 

She knew they all had pasts, whether it was the fleeting looks or sudden silences, she could tell that all of them had their secrets. But if anything it only attracted her more to them and Celeste suddenly found herself craving their acceptance and close camaraderie.

 

"You were good in the ring." Athos praised her as they finished up.

 

"Yeah," Porthos joined in. "Bonacieux's one of the better fighters we've got."

 

"Oh," Celeste smiled awkwardly. "He was going easy on me, you know..." She trailed off. "Where are they, actually?"

 

"Treville wanted to brief the men." Aramis grinned. "All the men in your squadron."

 

"Oh crap!" She moaned causing the other three to chuckle.

 

"It'll be fine!" Aramis sing songed, placing his hands in her shoulders as they left. "At best they'll all be so scared if you, you won't even have to try in any fights!"

 

Celeste resisted the temptation to punch the Spaniard in the stomach and instead joined all three of them in the living quarters for another hour.

 

"I did not!" Aramis squawked in utter horror. "Porthos du Vallon, take that back!"

 

Celeste clutched her side and bit her lip as laughter bubbled from her throat. Porthos was practically rolling in the floor and Athos looked absolutely resentful of all of them.

 

"How?! I-what?!" Aramis burst out, floundering in his seat.

 

"d'Herblay!" A voice snapped from behind them and they turned to find Treville standing there with his arms crossed and looking rather unimpressed. "Control yourself."

 

The four tried desperately not to laugh, and Porthos quickly lost his battle.

 

"d'Artagnan, I need a word." He quipped, signalling to his office. Reluctantly the girl stood and followed him through, getting sorrowful gazes from her companions.

 

The door clicked loudly behind her, and Celeste felt as if she'd entered a vacuum of silence.

 

"Now," Treville huffed, slumping in his hair and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes sockets. "I have some news on your father's death..."

 

***

 

 


	3. Getting Into Motion

 

Celeste slammed her bedroom door firmly behind her and flopped against her bed.

 

_This was not happening!_

Grunting in frustration, d'Artagnan slammed her head onto the bed and fought back tears.

 

A knock on the door caused her anger to flare and she wrenched the door open.

Athos was standing before her, his eyes wide as he watched the anger in her dissipate steadily. She slumped against the doorframe and scrubbed her face with her hand. "What, Athos?" She demanded tiredly.

 

Athos sighed softly. "Despite Captain Trevilles orders I thought you needed some company." And with that he pushed past her and entered her room.

 

Celeste frowned in confusion. "Athos...it's fine really..."Her explanation died suddenly when he raised his eyebrows at her. "Fine!" She snapped, plonking herself on the end of the bed as Athos took a seat on the chair resting a few meters away.

 

"I'm not one for talking." Athos added quietly and Celeste looked up at him. "In fact I'm quite the opposite..." He frowned to himself.

 

d'Artagnan chuckled a little. "That's okay...I talk too much anyway."

 

Athos smiled softly and Celeste's heart did a funny flop as he revealed a pair of blueberry sized dimples hidden beneath his beard, his eyes crinkling softly around the edges.

 

An awkward silence settled heavily around the room, and d'Artagnan suddenly realised she'd been openly staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. She snapped her head away and frowned at the bedsheets, her fists curling around the white material.

 

"The man who killed my father...he's _untouchable..."_ She trailed off as she heard Athos exhale in shock. "He works for the Cardinal, or worked...he went rogue...but because of his past...he- he's _invincible._..there's nothing we can-" She broke off suddenly as the feebleness of the situation slammed into her.

 

A hand awkwardly touched her shoulder. Athos knew all too well how the "Cardinal", or the President's advisory, worked.

 

"d'Artagnan" Athos tried and Celeste looked away suddenly, no expression on her face. "I don't know what to say..."

 

Celeste shook her head and gazed sadly at the man beside her. "Please...just don't say anything..."

 

Athos nodded and bit his lip hard, warring internally whether or not to tell Celeste his story too...

 

But at that moment his phone decided to ring, blaring out a tune he never wanted to hear again.

 

Celeste stared at him for a few moments in utter shock as Athos' face turned a ruddy red colour, in anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell. Athos dismissed a call from the Captain, something he would probably come to regret tomorrow morning, in a flap.

 

"Aramis." Athos deadpanned, and with that Celeste exploded into a fit of laughter.

 

"Oh you poor soul Athos," She chuckled, "How do you cope?"

 

"Wine, box-sets and violence." Athos grinned and Celeste released another watery laugh.

 

"Don't suppose you're willing to share?" She smiled and Athos paused a moment, mirth in his eyes.

 

After a short pause, he replied.

"I suppose you'll have to wait and see."

***

 

Weeks flew by with the Musketeers and before long summer had fluttered back into winter. Soft dustings of snow covering the pavements alike the dusting on one of those ever so fancy cupcakes in the bakery not far from Celeste's apartment.

 

This was her first mission.

Her first sense of the " _normal"_ life the Garrison lacked.

 

Sure, she'd been out of the compound since, but that was rare. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go anyway.

 

But this was different. New, exciting and dangerous. Because Celeste was now undercover.

 

Undercover and cut off from everyone.

 

Well not entirely, obviously. No, Aramis had insisted she wear some odd contact lenses which enabled those back at the Garrison to track her every move through her eyes. If she blinked purposefully two times an image would be saved on the database back at HQ of whatever object or item she was looking at during that time.

 

Which meant Celeste made a conscious effort to avoid certain...rituals and get dressed almost in the dark. Not that she didn't worry about the boy's seeing her naked...she just wasn't ready to flash quite yet...

 

So in the meantime, she simulated an ordinary life. Or at least the life she had been given to live out.

 

For the next few months, Celeste d'Artagnan was to become Serena Marcea a woman kicked out and scorned by the Musketeers. She was to live in a small yet stylish apartment, dress in glamorous and revealing clothing and behave like a wounded and bitter woman.

 

Her goal was to locate and join a gang run by a known thief Vadim. The man had recently escaped the Bastille and bad been rallying followers to take down the President.

 

It was Celeste's duty to gain inside knowledge and aid the Musketeers in preventing and capturing Vadim and the gang's members.

 

Pulling on her oversized mustard yellow woollen jumper over her ripped light blue skinny jeans, Celeste careful tied her hair up into a messy bun and slipped precariously over the laminated wooden floor in her fluffy night time socks.

 

Her fingers spun the dial from the apartments central heating, warming the cosy little area almost immediately. Celeste grinned.

 

_She could get used to this._

Dancing towards the kitchen, Celeste quickly toasted two slices of bread crispy and coated them with thin layers of sweet honey. A glass of orange juice refreshed her along with a couple of fancy cubes of ice slipping from the specialized dispenser built into her fridge, which she had yet to get used to since each time she was reminded of its presence she freaked out like a small child. On the first day in her apartment, d'Artagnan had filled almost fifteen glasses simply full of ice cubes. It was safe to say that she was easily amused by most things in life. Much to the amusement of those back in the Garrison HQ, who had come to love and cherish her excitable and easily amused nature.

 

Balancing her plate and glass precariously in one hand and holding the case files in the other hand,

Celeste slid back towards her bed room of white silk quilts with sewn pink and purple flowers into the centre of all the cushions, blankets and curtains. White chairs and tables, decorated with elegantly placed flower petals and bowls full of extravagant fruits.

 

Jumping up into the soft bed, crossing her knees and flicking through Vadim's case files as she sipped at her cool orange juice and resumed her "concentration face" which consisted of her biting her lip lightly and her eyes almost disappearing beneath her frowning brows.

 

Vadim was an interesting man.

 

Peering from her windowsill, which was now fogged up from the heat radiating from within, d'Artagnan's eyes focused in the small bar known simply as "The Tavern", which conveniently happened to be one if Vadim's key meeting places as discovered when reading his file. Chuckling to herself at Aramis' unnervingly well-organized planning, Celeste readied herself to head over to the bar later that very evening.

 

***


End file.
